XXI

Torundel was remembered forever after.

As no one doubted Torundel's honour, there was no guards in the luxurious suite he had been allowed to share with Uranumsia the last night before the execution. Rumours of them breaking the taboo, eating a last meal together and reading ancient poetry to each other, had spread through the city like wildfire.

Guests had been allowed, and the archivist of the B family was there crying like an infant. ‘I will eat supper together with my wife tonight, and I will teach her how to read!’ he said, ‘We will let no one break the sacred Sang laws. Your wife and her lover will live in peace and wealth in your house by the sea. The Dykeia of our age!’

The crowd was quiet when Torundel entered the ancient stone scaffold on the Square of Morteka, the Sang King. While they crushed his bones with wooden clubs he only groaned, and just before his head was cut off, he saw, through one remaining eye, the crowd kneeling in silent respect.

And Sang Lokke's words reverberated in Torundel's mind: I will have my revenge! My wrath will ravage the world! And goodness will grow from it. Like a sapling in shit.

Torundel was remembered forever after...

as Sang Torundel.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

This week, I thought I would compile a few videos of creative photography ideas that will get your photography juices flowing. These videos are from Jordi Koalitic, who shares some of his unique, fun ideas. Some of these you can do in your own home or out and about. Check them out, try them out, and share some of your photos with us in the comments section!

XX

Torundel felt sick. But all around him people were buzzing with excitement. He had been right. The reemergence of shitposting had spellbound society. Sang law was not dusty, forgotten lore anymore.

Count B came rushing to the side of his agitated wife. ‘What is this, Torundel? I will have you flogged… ’

‘Count B! I am your enemy. I, Torundel, challenged you to shitposting and I demand Ulumergina!’ A collective howl from the room revealed that people understood that ancient word.

The Count who had never read anything but well-behaved novels and courteous poetry made the last mistake of his life.

‘This man is a villain, a scoundrel!’ he shouted. ‘He has lured me into a trap writing both his own and my shitposts. Guards! Take him into custody. Let's see what the senate tribunal have to say to this ludicrous story. My best guess is that they, for trying to cheat a Nobleman, will have your arms amputated and you imprisoned for life. You pathetic, petty, little, piece of… of.. intellectual!’

‘A FALSE SHITPOSTER MUST BE TORN TO BLOODY SHREDS BY WOMEN'S HANDS,’ shrieked a fat lady, who gripped by the latest literary trend obviously had memorized all of Sang law.

Uranumsia was first in the fray.

Torundel felt sick.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

XIX

Torundel exhaled nervously. The guards had allowed him and Uranumsia to enter without questions about their marital status. He'd been a frequent guest in the mountain manor, and they suspected nothing.

Count B's Isolexit ball, celebrating the day, two millennia earlier, where people had left the fallout shelters, was held in a giant elegantly adorned grotto. Torundel listened to the chatter of the guests. Because of the shitpost craze people were again reading the old poets, and names like Sang Utor, Sang Argilius and Sang Hortuscany rang from every corner of the grotto.

‘Torundel! I can't wait to see your new wife...’ It was his former wife in an exquisite, white dress, more stunning than ever. He'd planned this, but it didn't give him any pleasure.

She stood there, stunned, then furious. ‘This is illegal, Torundel! A fisherman's wench!’

‘I have...’ he said with a weak voice, then pulling himself together he shouted as loud as he could, ‘I have married this woman by Sang law. Yesterday we mixed blood and semen.’

Uranumsia raised her arms towards the roof, and her cape fell to the floor. Underneath she had sewn a perfect copy of the immodest dress that Dykeia wore on the forbidden wall paintings in grotto A23.

Torundel exhaled nervously.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

XVIII

Torundel stood by the bedroom window with Uranumsia – looking at the evening sea.

‘You will have to marry me!’ he said.

‘I am sorry, Torundel, but fishermen do not sell their children or buy their wives. We are outclass and banned from mingling with anyone but the beggars, the travellers and the netherworlders. Also… I would be unfaithful.’

‘Listen carefully, lass. The laws of the Sang Kings do not only concern shitposting. By ancient decree they are laws above any other law. Nobody ever dared to remove or change them, but then… nobody paid them any heed for a millennium. Sang law states that a man who doesn't write his own shitposts, and any man who helps him shall be executed.’

Uranumsia cried soundlessly, but Torundel continued calmly. ‘It means that you have nothing to fear as you are not a man, but a woman.’

‘But legally we can't marry, Torundel. You better forget about that ball. The Count is too powerful.’

‘I can marry you, and you can be my heir, my equal and my love under Sang law.’

‘Like Sang Hortuscany married Dykeia in the brothel?’ She took his hand. Solemn. ‘I will marry you then!‘

Torundel stood by the bedroom window with Uranumsia – looking at the evening sea.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

XVII

Torundel had a strange feeling of déjà vu. Maybe because Uranumsia wore dresses she found in his wife's wardrobe. She changed the dresses, cutting and sewing them, in a fashion not seen for centuries, into a revealing and indecent style inspired by the forbidden wall paintings in grotto A23 in the mountains above the capital.

The style of Dykeia the whore, Dykeia the wife of Sang Hortuscany.

Uranumsia was obsessed with Dykeia; said she needed to feel like Dykeia to write the shitposts. She gave him free access to any holes… except when she was reading, but he had to tolerate the chirping and mess of two little birds in a cage because Dykeia had loved her two birds more than her eyes. And yet he found it charming, and educated, and spirited.

‘Does Count B understand the repeated references to the hairy vagina of Fitta IV?’ she asked one evening.

‘Dear girl, he has no knowledge of anything relating to ancient literature!’

‘A shame!’ She giggled.

‘Listen lass, I have been thinking about asking your father if I can… buy you in marriage.’

Uranumsia looked at him in panic. ‘I have a lover. A young fisherman from up the coast,’ she whispered.

Torundel had a strange feeling of déjà vu.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

XVI

Torundel didn't give a shit. But the Count did. As much as he'd hated the shitposts in the beginning, the Count was now bathing in the bliss of the idolatry he'd been subject too since his identity was leaked by his scholars.

He enjoyed it, but he didn't understand it.

One day the Count said, ‘Isn't it really rather base - mocking a person with sentences of genitalia and bodily fluids? Look! My scoundrel opponent writes, “ … crawling through the hairy hedge of mother's cunt: the greatest thing you ever did. All you did hereafter was only ever shit!” It's distasteful! You said yourself rhyming was ignoble!’

The silence of the scholars made the Count stop… and blush. The archivist who had spoken to Torundel weeks earlier and was now his greatest admirer, said in a harsh tone: ‘breaking rules, milord, is considered manly – daring – They just have to be broken in the right place at the right time.’

The Count furiously turned to Torundel stammering in his effort to say something nasty. ‘You are invited to my Isolexit ball as a thank you for your… poetry. But you need to buy a wife. Bachelors are not allowed.’

The Count obviously tried to humiliate him.

Torundel didn't give a shit.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

How to Do Digital Scrapbooking – A Fun Activity to do Indoors | PetaPixel

Have you heard of digital scrapbooking? It probably sounds a little weird because a scrapbook is associated with crafts and handiwork. But it’s also a way of preserving and displaying your memories with a specific look that can be recreated digitally.

An interesting hobby for your lockdown leisure from Ana Mireles. This can go together well with flat lay photography.

Five steps to capturing perfect flat lay photography with your camera, plus photo editing tips to make your image stand out! From setting the scene to getting rid of unwanted objects in the editing process and more.

XV

Torundel was annoyed. The count and his scholars had done as they were supposed to – in a fashion. Torundel would have preferred it: old fashion. In the days of the Sang warriors, when the world was shaped anew after Gededon – the fall of nature – every new shitpost was brought to the public's attention through circulated letters and gossip. The shitposts were then read aloud in the art salons and academies, and finally they came to the theaters where common people would flock to listen to shitpost recitings.

Now he could read it in the newspapers.

It made the front page every time a new shitpost was published. The columnists wrote endless analyses of writing styles and guesses on the combatant's identity. Uranumsia was a practical person. She now sent each new epistle, made using letters cut from Torundel's books and glued onto paper, directly to the editors.

She didn't clean anymore; most of the time she was reading in his library or sitting in the kitchen with him, writing the next shitpost. He didn't mind any of that. He even enjoyed seeing her peacefully asleep on the couch in the reading room, a book on her bosom.

But some nights she would just stay away, and then …

Torundel was annoyed.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.

Raising the barn

XIV

Torundel sensed fate liquefying in heavy droplets all around him. He'd left the house of Count B with four ecstatic house scholars grabbing his hand in deepest respect.

‘You have revived an ancient art into a soulless century, and it will shake the sea and break the petty shelters we take cover in,’ the head of the B family's archive said in a hushed voice.

Torundel walked all the way through the city and out the city gates until he at last stood in the fishing village that was his home. The sea was turning grey green again, the wind mild and freezing.

‘Your slushing ball sack drip drops of egg white, hardly a man any more...’ Uranumsia read from his note book and was impressed and eager to sit down and write the answer right away. But he took her hand and dragged her out of the house, down to the sea. A fisherman's daughter, she didn't shiver in the cold breeze.

‘I told the Count that what he did, making me write his answer, was punishable by death...’

And Uranumsia finished his sentence ‘… and he told you that what you did, writing his answer, was punishable by death.’

Torundel sensed fate liquefying in heavy droplets all around him.

Torundel the Shitposter! A serial fiction written for fun, originally posted on the Hive blockchain - now here. Each episode follow these rules:

211 words - Starting with the word Torundel - First and last sentence are identical.

Please write in the comments if there's wrong spelling, ugly English etc. The other episodes can be found using the #Torundel tag.